


The Words We Regret

by CelestialVoid



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Drabble, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, It wouldn't be my writing without angst, M/M, One Shot, Short One Shot, but it's all okay in the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 03:54:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12424506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialVoid/pseuds/CelestialVoid
Summary: Also Known As: THE CASE OF THE MISSING BURRITOStiles gets a phone call from his grandma, distraught over her missing burrito, but it very quickly devolves into a volatile argument.





	The Words We Regret

**Author's Note:**

> Setting/AU: Domestic AU - Anonymous  
> Dialogue: “No, grandma, I will NOT fight Helen at the nursing home for you. See? This is why we don’t give you tequila anymore!” - narcissistnech (narcissistnech.tumblr.com)  
> Plot Twist: THE CAT ATE HALF THE BURRITO, not the neighbour - narcissistnech (narcissistnech.tumblr.com)
> 
> Thank you for the 1000 Tumblr followers!

Stiles let out a dejected sigh as he dragged his hand down his face. He looked tired, the shadows beneath his eyes draining the colour from his face as he stared into space, listening to the woman on the other end of the phone.

“Are you sure it was Helen?” he asked, trying to hide the edge in his voice. “Are you sure you didn’t just eat the burrito and forget you did?”

He pulled the phone away from his ear slightly, wincing as he paced back and forth.

From where he sat on the couch, Derek could hear the old woman screaming on the other end of the call. He looked up, watching as Stiles paced back and forth.

“No,” Stiles said firmly. “No, grandma, I will _not_ fight Hellen for you.”

There was a moment’s pause and Derek watched as Stiles raked his slender fingers through the tousled mess of brown hair.

“See?” Stiles snapped. “This is why we don’t give you tequila anymore! You’re on medication; you’re not meant to drink, grandma… Fine, drink yourself into your grave, what do I care?!”

Stiles regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. He drew in a sharp breath and opened his mouth to say something, but it was too late; she had hung up. He let out another broken sigh as he lowered the phone from his ear, the call dead. He tossed the phone onto the coffee table as he stormed past the couch and into the kitchen.

Derek watched as Stiles rummaged through the cupboards, hurling them back on their hinges and slamming them shut again when he didn’t find what he wanted. He rose to his feet and made his way into the kitchen, lingering in the doorway as his eyes focused on Stiles; his arms trembling and his face screwed up in rage as he tore the kitchen apart.

“What are you looking for?” Derek asked softly.

“Whiskey,” Stiles answered shortly, his jaw tense and his voice dry.

“Stiles,” Derek whispered.

Stiles slammed the cupboard door shut, cutting Derek off, and spun around, his eyes a raging inferno as he shouted, “Don’t you know, Derek? My family is full of alcoholics who drink their troubles away. What makes me any different?”

Derek didn’t reply, he kept his eyes level with Stiles’, his gaze full of undying love.

Stiles’ shoulders dropped and he let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Derek pushed himself off the door frame and crossed the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Stiles’ trembling shoulders and holding him close.

“It’s okay,” Derek whispered, feeling the warm tears seep through the cotton of his shirt. “Come on.” He gently guided Stiles back into the lowered loungeroom of the loft and sat him down on the couch. He sat down next to him and pulled Stiles into his arms, letting the young man curl up against his side.

“I’m the worst grandson ever,” Stiles muttered.

“No, you’re not,” Derek replied softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of Stiles’ head. “You have every reason to be upset. She’s endangering her life and you’re worried because you care about her.” After a moment, Derek whispered, “Tell me what happened.”

“She had a day out of the nursing home and brought home a burrito. She put it on her plate and went to the bathroom, and when she came back she only had half a burrito on her plate,” Stiles explained.

Derek made an ungraceful sound as he tried—and failed—to smother his laughter.

Stiles couldn’t help but smile. “Anyway,” he continued. “She is certain that Hellen next door took it.”

Derek opened his mouth to say something when Stiles’ phone rang, interrupting them.

Stiles sighed dramatically as he dragged himself away from Derek, sitting upright and answering his phone. “Hello?”

There was a moment of quiet before a bright smile lit up Stiles’ face.

“The cat?” He laughed. “The cat took your burrito?”

Behind him, Derek started laughing.

Stiles reached out and gently slapped him.

“Hey, grandma,” Stiles said softly. “I love you.”

Derek fell quiet long enough to hear the elderly woman’s reply: “I love you too, Stiles.”

**Author's Note:**

> celestialvoid-fanfiction.tumblr.com


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